


“Let It Be”

by AhmedA01



Category: 1960s Music Scene RPF, British Singers RPF, Music RPF, Rock Music RPF, The Beatles
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 19:54:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1238872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AhmedA01/pseuds/AhmedA01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A conversation between the unlikeliest of people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	“Let It Be”

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Obviously. Unfortunately.

_“The thing I keep remembering is how, just before Heather gave birth to her and Paul’s daughter, he told me how happy he was. He actually said: ‘I feel like I’ve been given a second life.’”_   
****

“You look happy.”

Paul ducked his head, almost shyly, and his eyes glowed with a light that I had not seen in decades. If I was going to be completely truthful, I could say that that light started to fade with my arrival, but that is neither here nor there. As I sat across from him, I studied his face closely and I couldn’t help noticing how young Paul looked, as though years of tiredness, disappointment, and the pain of losing loved ones had finally eased off his shoulders.

He looked like he did on the covers of the dusty old LPs that John kept under the bed, hidden where he thought I wouldn’t find them. Cracked and bent from one too many handlings, I’d occasionally catch him looking at them, his fingers and eyes lingering on one face in particular. The face of the man sitting across from me in the café we frequented whenever he was in New York on business.

A small smile tugging at his lips, threatening to turn into a full-blown grin, Paul slowly wet his lips before speaking.

“I feel like I’ve been given a second life.”

He paused, mouth slightly open, as if wanting to say something more but I could see that he was struggling with the words. I leaned forward and boldly placed my hand on his as it rested atop the white linens. Without a look of surprise, he looked down at our entwined hands, his lips curled in a smirk as he looked up and I couldn’t help but grin in response.

Who’d ever think that we’d be at a place where we could just get together for coffee and just be? Be what, I don’t know. I mean, we’re no longer enemies but we’re not quite friends. Well, not yet anyway. I suppose we can just be two people who share the experience of loving the same man. And after all these years, that is no longer as unpalatable a thought as it once was.

“It’s just been so long since I’ve felt anything like this,” he continued, his words coming out in an excited rush. “I mean,” the light in his eyes dimming somewhat, he continued in a more subdued voice. “It doesn’t quite compare to the happiness that I felt with Linda, nor does it completely erase the pain of losing John the first time…”

He trailed off self-consciously, his eyes widening a bit at the unintentional slip of the tongue. His remorse, however, didn’t stop me from feeling a slight twinge of guilt at his words. So many years have passed since then, yet, the feeling will still creep up occasionally. Shamefaced, I couldn’t bear to look at him any longer, and so I dropped my gaze to my lap.

Sometimes I like to delude myself into thinking that had I known what I was coming between, I would’ve stopped pursuing John so ardently. But even I can’t deceive myself to that extent. Decades of hindsight have definitely given me a new perspective on my actions, and well, I can honestly say that I’m not proud of all of them.

I felt a slight pressure on my hand and looking up, I found Paul’s regretful gaze on me.

“I’m sorry, Yoko,” he apologized, as he squeezed my hand again.

“It’s all right, Paul,” I said, truthfully. “You spoke what was on your mind. Lord knows that we don’t need anymore lies between us.”

“Be that as it may, it’s no excuse,” he answered back, shaking his head vehemently. Reaching forward, he tucked an errant strand of my jet black hair behind one ear, his dark eyes locked on mine. “I truly am sorry, Yoko.”

Smiling ruefully, I held his gaze and with as much emotion as I could muster I replied, “So am I, Paul. So am I.”

_Quote from the article:_  
YOKO: IT’S HARD FOR HEATHER – By Caroline Hedley  
[http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/tm_objectid=17324158&method=full&siteid=94762&headline=yoko–it-s-hard-for-heather–name_page.html](http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/tm_objectid=17324158&method=full&siteid=94762&headline=yoko--it-s-hard-for-heather--name_page.html)


End file.
